


The Sleepy Prince

by DenseHumboldt



Category: Die Zauberflöte | The Magic Flute - Mozart/Schikaneder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29558574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenseHumboldt/pseuds/DenseHumboldt
Summary: A modern retelling of Mozart's a Magic Flute, set in a Toronto coffee shop
Relationships: Pamina/Tamino (Die Zauberflöte), Papagena/Papageno (Die Zauberflöte)
Kudos: 2





	The Sleepy Prince

**Author's Note:**

> If I could explain this hyperfixation I would, but I can't. I can only hope it carries me through long enough to finish the story.
> 
> First chapter is a short experiment. Other ones will be longer if people express interest 😘

His head barely fit through the door. It was old, the panes of glass cracked and yellowed, and it stuck in the spring and the winter. The gloves Papageno wore prevented him from getting a good grip on the handle and the padded hoop that swung around his hips meant he could only shove at it with his shoulder. His head turned to the side and the long beak of his costume scrapped the jamb.

He managed to pop it open with a small bang, and he stumbled into the coffee shop.

"Oh my goodness," Elvira declared first. As Papageno sorted his costume back into place, straightening the beak so the head was no longer twisted, he saw Minerva pop up from under the counter.

"I told you to knock and we will let you in, you stupid chicken," Minerva chastised him.

Vera was on the till as he walked with his swinging hips and feather wedgie to the counter.

"Or you could not wear the costume," Vera muttered. The sisters had heavy greek accents, they added to the charm of the place. Vera was already punching in his order. He came every day to the Sleepy Prince, not always in costume, but always at the same time.

"I don't have time to change. It takes too long and I would have less freedom to enjoy my lunch hour."

Papageno had the money ready in his left glove. Vera held out her hand and he pulled at the middle finger until enough skin showed that the coins could slip out. Vera always looked mildly disgusted at his money, as if it was earned in a shameful way.

Each sister had long black hair and similar piercing eyes. They looked unnerving when clumped together, like a murder of crows, but it would be impossible to mistake one for the other.

"Have the boy make it," Minerva directed, taking the paper cup from Elvira. "He needs to learn."

"Who will teach him?"

The sisters shared a look as Papageno took his place on a bar stool behind the espresso machine.

"You and Vera have work to do," Minerva answered blandly. "You can leave him to me."

"You said you needed to do inventory," Vera piped up. "I will stay on till and teach him until someone comes in."

"No," Elvira's voice was high and reedy. It made her seem sweeter than the other two. "I can teach him."

"I could show him."

All three glared at Papageno but he shrugged.

"If I have to drink it then it is only fair."

"Fine Bird Brain," Minerva sneered. "Do not make him an idiot. We don't have time for it."

The sisters shuffled together down the narrow space behind the counter and disappeared into the back. A moment later a slim and handsome youth appeared, drying his hands on his apron.

Papageno understood their argument immediately. The boy was beautiful, ethereal like a fairytale. He stopped when he saw Papageno's yellow and green costume, his dark eyes went wide then a charming smile broke over his face.

"It makes sense now, why they called you a fool. You look delightful," the boy said coming to stand before the machine.

Papageno spread his arms wide at the praise and cocked his head so his mask looked more life-like.

"It is I, Papageno, king of fools and speaker of birds. What do they call you?"

"Tamino, or Tam if they like me."

"How could anyone not like you?"

The boy shrugged and began to gather the small silver jug and the thermometer.

"I see you know somethings."

"I learn fast. I just need practice."

"Then practice on me, your dear friend Papageno."

Tamino laughed as he poured milk into the jug. Too much but Papageno did not correct him. He would learn fast what was too much and one could not unpour milk.

The machine began to hiss as the boy worked, steam giving his cheeks a lovely colour. Papageno watched him make mistakes, considering the effect they would have on his enjoyment of the drink.

Tamino passed the cup to Papageno, hesitating a moment before plunging a straw through the white cap on top. Papageno smiled though he knew the boy couldn't see it. He considered the cup carefully.

"What do you think?" Tamino was nervous, rubbing his arm.

"This is not foam, it is bubbles," Papageno declared first.

"What is the difference?'

"Foam is dense and thick, it gives me a beautiful voice when I sing to the visitors. Bubbles will make me hiccup."

Tamino reached for the cup, murmuring something about trying again. Papageno held up a feathered hand.

He took an exaggerated sip through the straw, ignoring how hot it was and the way he could feel it moving down his throat. He sang a loud A note before dissolving into hiccoughs. Tamino laughed.

"Bubbles are not foam. And you must pack the espresso tighter. There is too much water, you must give it a hard time."

Tamino looked confused again. "Isn't it always water? And the same amount."

"No, the heat and the struggle is what makes the water into espresso."

"You don't have to drink it."

"But I do." Papageno pressed his free hand to his chest, pantomiming shock. "Turning down food and drink is how you become skinny. And then women will no longer love me."

"Do many women love you?"

"Yes, of course. Too many. I have a mother and a grandmother, eight sisters and sixty four nieces."

"How many nephews?"

"None, I am the only man in our flock. It is my duty to keep myself strong."

"Why aren't you married?"

Papageno sighed loudly, but was silenced by a chirping noise and Tamino pulling out his phone.

"What is that?" Papageno asked, tucking the straw under the beak of his mask. Tamino's eyes had grown far away.

"The sisters say this is their niece. Every day she competes in a contest. We have to watch her video and like it. Leaving a comment helps."

"That does not seem part of your job."

"It was strange at first, but now I like the break."

Tamino angled the screen so he and Papageno could watch together. There was a small red headed girl smiling and winking at the camera. A song was playing in the background and she made little finger guns at different pictures on the screen. Beside her was a stream of hearts and messages. Tamino added his to the crowd. Almost as soon as it started it stopped again. The girl blew a kiss to the camera and froze in place.

Tamino sighed and tucked the phone away. He took a piece of biscotti from a glass jar and broke it in half. He gave one half to Papageno. Papageno liked this boy.

"She is very pretty," Papageno prompted, gnawing on the sweet lump of cookie.

"She was sad today."

"How can you tell?"

Tamino shrugged again and wiped down the espresso machine.

"Sometimes she talks, but there is something in her eyes. I just know when she is sad."

"You should talk to her."

"I can't. Sometimes it feels like she is too perfect to be real."

"You know she is real," Papageno gestured emphatically. "You have seen her picture. It even moved. Be bold, young friend."

Tamino opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the banging of the door. A tall woman, six feet or more, swept in wearing a long black trench coat.

The three sisters sprung from the back, pulling off their aprons.

"Astra, we didn't expect to see you today."

"Oh goodness."

"Do you need something, Astra?"

The sisters' words jumbled over top of each other. Astra looked around the cafe slowly. Her eyes were as deep and cold as seawater. Papageno shivered and shrunk back into his suit when her gaze landed on him.

"Sisters," Astra's voice was deep and melancholy. "I have come to talk about my daughter."


End file.
